


Bring Me Our Horizon

by sleepylotus



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: 1950s AU, F/M, Rockabilly, potc au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-10-01 04:21:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10180571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepylotus/pseuds/sleepylotus
Summary: Elizabeth Swann seems like Miss Perfect—the principal’s daughter, straight A student, and the prettiest girl in school. She should be content, but going on an impromptu date with the bad boy Jack Sparrow turns her world upside down. That’s right, it’s a 1950s Sparrabeth AU.





	1. Slick Chrome American Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ColorblindCity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorblindCity/gifts).



**Author’s Note:** So. First and foremost, I blame the brilliant Ms. Mariel—the one and only colorblindly, for starting all this with a beautiful fic outline you can find [here.](http://apirateslifeforme123.tumblr.com/post/141007645488/4-8-for-sparrabeth)

It really spoke to me, and now its turned into this Rockabilly era AU/Romeo and Juliet Jack and Lizzy lovefest/race-gender equality behemoth, peppered with nods to POTC characters and plots. Heh.

Mariel, I can’t thank you enough! Thank you for giving me permission to post this, you are a treasure!

This will be best enjoyed with Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis blasting on Pandora. ;) I also confess I drew much inspiration from the Killers as well, whose early music/poetry definitely has a Rockabilly vibe.

I’ve done a lot of research for this. Clothing, lingo, etc., I’m trying to be somewhat accurate without being totally kitch, lol. (i.e. Grease). I know everyone is also going to think Cry Baby! but that’s not really what I have in mind either, lol and no offense.  

I hope you all enjoy, and any feedback is of course extremely welcome/I will love you forever/I will bake you cookies/I need it to _live_. ;P

 

# 1\. Slick Chrome American Prince

_He looked just like you'd want him to, some kind of slick chrome American Prince._

* * *

 

“Oh my God. Has he ever heard of a razor?”

“He has tattoos! Can you imagine?”

“He’s such a chum head he got held back a year.”

“He’s an ape! Cutler was in the hospital for _three_ days because of him!”

Elizabeth zoned out through the din of her chattering friends’ after school gossip hour. They gathered around her yellow Ford Fairlane in the parking lot, like a flock of candy-colored birds of prey, pretty but vicious. Beth was used to drowning them out. Her mind was on other things, such as: she’d been cast as Juliet in the school play, which would have been fine if Cutler Beckette was not to play the part of Romeo.

“Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?”

 _She was a good foot taller than him!_ How the bloody hell was this to work? She was certain the spoiled little twat had bribed and/or threatened Mrs. Beasley into giving him the part. It made a mockery of those of them who actually took acting seriously.

“Beth!”

_Christ, what a farce._

“Bess!!” the three hawks screeched in unison.

 _Jesus Christ, fucking what?_ she thought, but schooled her expression, as she always did with the girls. “What?”

“He’s _looking_ at you! _”_ Barbara stage whispered.

“ _Who?”_

“Jack _Sparrow_.”

Elizabeth followed her friends’ gazes across the parking lot to find the outcast in question leaning against his black Bel Air coupe, arms crossed over his middle, a lit cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He wore a leather jacket and faded jeans, sunglasses hooked on the front of his white t-shirt. Shaggy dark curls brushed his collar, and he was the only boy in school who had a mustache _and_ a beard.

Though it went against everything she’d ever been told, Elizabeth found him _ridiculously_ attractive.

Indeed, he did appear to have his attention fixed on her. A small smirk curled the side of his full mouth when he noticed she returned his gaze. Impertinent as the day was long, the perpetual bad boy held true to his reputation, blowing her a kiss across the tarmac.

Her friends _howled_ with outraged glee, and for a moment a delighted devil-may-care smile flashed upon Jack’s lips. But Elizabeth just stared, as though she knew it was all just a show for the cackling biddies by her side. His eyes met hers, a deep chocolate brown so dark they were almost black. She read a question in those eyes, and though she didn’t have an answer, she brazenly refused to look away.

In the end the corners of her mouth curled up at him, just slightly. She raised her hand in the barest of waves, before reality returned to her and that familiar inexplicable _weight_ slammed down once more. She could hear her father’s voice in her head, the principal’s voice he used when he was admonishing her questionable behavior. _What would people think?_

She wasn’t sure why she really cared.

She was still trying to figure that out.

Jack’s attention turned to a young colored man ambling down the sidewalk outside the schoolyard fence. The outcast’s smile changed to a greeting filled with genuine warmth. Elizabeth watched as he got in his car, the engine firing to life with a rumble like the purring of a great jungle beast, and pulled around. The passer-by climbed in, and the pair roared off down the road with nary a look back.

Immediately, her entourage went back to vicious whispering, no doubt outraged by the mixing of races in the same car and god knew what other rubbish.

Elizabeth felt an ache in her chest she didn’t exactly understand, watching the taillights of the Bel Air disappear in the distance.


	2. The Black Pearl

# 2\. The Black Pearl

_I got this energy beneath my feet like something underground is going to come up and carry me._

 

* * *

 

 

Lizzy sang along with the radio at the top of her lungs, a cigarette clasped loosely in one hand, the steering wheel of the Fairlane in her other. She changed the stations, looking for some Buddy Holly or Chuck Berry. Even Elvis would have done, but all she could find was Bubblegum pop.

No rock n roll to be found in this little town.

She sighed, and concentrated on the road.

She’d told her father she was going to a Homecoming committee meeting, but once behind the wheel she’d decided to skip it and go for a drive instead. That was four hours ago, and she still couldn’t bring herself to go back home yet.

Driving in the car made her feel _so free,_ and it was a feeling she desperately wanted to last. She’d been around every back road in the county, and now she was on the outskirts of town.

Suddenly a clicking sound filtered through the dashboard, followed by a banging. The car started to stutter, and immediately she slowed down. Was she out of gas? She just filled up, it couldn’t be.

_Fuck._

She noticed just ahead a sign that said _Teague’s Auto Body & Repair. _

The car barely managed to crawl into the parking lot, before giving one last rattling heave.

_Shit shit shit._

Her father was going to _kill_ her. This was practically a brand new car. Well, she hadn’t done _anything_ but drive the bloody thing!

Flustered, she grabbed her purse and went into the main office, a little cinderblock building attached to the garage. No one was behind the counter, so she rang the bell.

No one appeared.

Impatiently she raised her hand to ding the bell again, when a side door opened. She turned to face the new arrival, and her jaw hung open just a little in surprise. There stood Jack Sparrow, shirtsleeves rolled up over muscular sun-browned forearms. Immediately her eyes were drawn to a tattoo of a sparrow on one arm, and a scar that looked like a runic P on the other. He’d pulled his thick hair back in a little queue. He wiped his hands on an oil-rag, and seemed just as surprised to see her as she was him.

Embarrassed that she’d been staring at his arms, her eyes flew back up to meet his. “ _You_ work here?”

It sounded like an accusation, and he splayed his hands in a gesture of surrender. “My dad owns the shop.”

“Oh.” Suddenly she felt rather silly. “I suppose what I meant to say was _Hello._ ”

He offered that smirk that was somehow infuriating and unfairly becoming. “Hi.”

“Um…I think I broke my car.”

At the mention of _car_ Jack immediately straightened, confidence in the situation restored. “You’ve come to the right place then. What’s it doing?”

“It made a frightful racket and then it died, in your parking lot.”

A small smile curled the side of Jack’s mouth as he went behind the counter, picking up a pen. Her eyes were drawn to his hands. Something about the way he _moved,_ with an unexpected fluid grace fascinated her _._ Artist’s hands, she thought.

“You think my accent’s funny, don’t you?”

She’d been born in England, and lived there fourteen years before coming to the States.

“Nah, I think it’s sweet, doll.” He looked up at her from beneath long eyelashes, before turning back to his paper. “What’s your name?” he asked. _As if you don’t already know,_ he chided himself. Everyone knew _her_ name. The finest girl in school, and the principal’s daughter besides.

Jack was used to pretty girls making eyes at him, but when she’d smiled and waved the other day it’d hit him like a baseball between the eyes. He would probably never forget it.

“Elizabeth Swann,” she answered.

“What’s the make, model and year?”

“It’s a Ford Fairlane. ’58.”

Jack whistled. “Brand new. Well, Lizzy. Let’s have a look under the hood.”

She stiffened a little at the familiar nickname and _possible_ innuendo, but then decided she kind of liked it. Better than Beth, at any rate, and she always thought Bess was something you should call a farm animal with big doe eyes.

Jack was alone at his father’s shop on Saturday, and so she helped him push the car into the garage. He promised to have a look and invited her to sit in the waiting room in the office.

She read both the magazines on offer without a word from Jack. Stir-crazy, she decided to go out for a cigarette. When she turned the corner of the building she found the mechanic leaning against the cinderblock wall, a fag already between his fingers.

“May I?” she found herself asking, even though she had her own in her purse.

Surprised, Jack lifted his hand, offering her the cig. She inhaled deeply, blowing the blue smoke into the air as she leaned on the wall beside him. He waited for her to cough, to betray that she was just trying to be cool, but she took another puff and kept his cigarette besides. Amused, he lit another for himself.

Elizabeth could feel his eyes upon her, and found it gave her a rather guilty thrill.

“You’ve got a lot of miles on that new car just from driving around town.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips. “I like to drive,” she admitted. “It feels good to be on the move. Sometimes, I just want to keep on going, right into the horizon. You ever feel like that?”

Jack looked down at his boots, laughing a little, though it wasn’t precisely a happy sound. “All the time,” he admitted, ashing his cigarette.

“Maybe someday I’ll actually go somewhere,” she speculated, tittering her own nervous laugh. For some reason hearing it hurt Jack’s heart, and he wasn’t really sure why.

“Well, if you want to drive it like that, you’ve got to change the oil more often.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth felt quite silly right then. “My father said it should be fine…”

“Does he know how many miles are on it?”

“Well…no.” Jack laughed a little, but this time it was a lighter sound.

“Want me to turn back the odometer for you?”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Indeed, but for you Lizzy, I could be persuaded.”

Somehow delighted for the mischief in the suggestion, Elizabeth giggled. The sound caused unexpected warmth to bloom in Jack’s chest. He coughed uncomfortably, flummoxed by this odd sensation.

Usually he was the _king_ of cool.

“Well, it might be a while. Is there someone you want to call, or…”

“I don’t mind waiting,” she told him, _too_ quickly, finding she really didn’t want to leave. She laughed again, knowing she must have sounded a little crazy. “I told my parents I was going to school,” she tried to explain. “They’d be puzzled as to why I’m all the way out here.”

“You mean, they’d be _worried._ ”

This wasn’t the best side of town.

She shrugged. Same thing, wasn’t it? Close enough, at any rate.

“Well, I’ll try to get it going today.”

She’d nearly burned up the engine, and some gaskets needed replacing, which would be a pain. He knew it would take a miracle to finish it that day, but he found he didn’t mind the thought of having her around.

“Cheers.”

Elizabeth waited.

And waited.

She read a book she’d luckily had under the seat, and watched the sun as it descended towards the horizon. Finally Jack came back out, wiping his hands again on a rag, and a smear of grease on his forehead besides. He looked a little frustrated, for which Elizabeth felt rather guilty.

“Well darlin’, your chariot is going to take a little more work than I thought, and it’s getting late. I could give you a ride home in the Pearl?”

An uncertain smile curled her lips. “The Pearl?”

Jack had the grace to look sheepish. “Erm—the Black Pearl. It’s what I call my car.”

It was a black and white ’57 Chevy Bel Air coupe, the V8 engine of which had been enhanced quite beyond the factory issue. It was his _baby_ , and he spent most of his weekends washing her, or working on her.

He waited for her to ridicule him, to cut him down like all her snooty friends would undoubtedly expect her to. Surely this nice girl act was just a façade, he told himself.

But her smile only widened, and she gathered her purse. “That would be smashing, thank you.” She took the rag from his hands, wiping away the smear upon his forehead. His heart pounded in his chest for the unexpected contact, knocking his ribs so hard he felt _certain_ she could hear it.

 _Jesus,_ she was beautiful. Like a fine race-horse, all leg and sinew, and a face that could put Boticelli’s angels to shame.

“Ah…thank you.”

Jack felt the almost undeniable urge to kiss her, and stuck his hands in his pockets so that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should disclaim for this and the following chapters that I know next to NOTHING about cars lol. But I know how to almost blow up an engine by driving driving driving! lol.


	3. Pirate Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In memory of Chuck Berry, one of the greatest pioneers of Rock and Roll, Oct 18 1926 - March 18 2017.   
> I was lucky enough to actually see him play once at the Duck Room here in St. Louis, and it was amazing. Even in his 80s his energy electrified a room. He was truly an incredible musician.   
> Rest in peace and B. Goode, you Brown Eyed Handsome Man.

# 3\. Pirate Smile

_Cruisin’ and playin’ the radio, with no particular place to go… -Chuck Berry_

* * *

 

As they drove through town they passed the sign for the drive-in theatre’s marquis. _The Creature From the Black Lagoon_ was advertised in bright lights, and Elizabeth pointed. “Oh, I’ve been wanting to see that. Want to go?”

Jack raised an eyebrow, amused by her enthusiasm for a horror flick.

Who _was_ this girl? Certainly not the princess of Edlington High?

“You sure you don’t need to be getting home?”

Her face fell a little. “I’m sorry. I’ve managed to highjack your whole Saturday, haven’t I? Of course you have real plans.”

 _Bloody stupid,_ she admonished herself, all the while wondering what someone as cool as Jack Sparrow _did_ on a Saturday night.

Jack, however, thought nothing could be nicer than spending a little more time with this girl.

Suddenly Jack made a U-turn, cars honking behind them. She laughed with disbelief, craning her neck back to regard the disgruntled motorists. Someone flipped them the bird, which she returned right back, causing Jack to bare his teeth in a wolfish grin.

“You have a pirate’s smile,” she said out of the blue, those caramel eyes fixed upon him.

“Thank you?”

Elizabeth insisted that she pay for the tickets and the popcorn, as she’d been the one to put him out just before he’d thought he could leave the shop for the day. And because Jack believed in equality, he let her.

However, half way through the movie she began to throw the popcorn _at him._

A few kernels struck him before he finally turned his attention to her. “Are you that bored?”

She shrugged, a rather wicked little smile upon her lips. “Just practicing my aim. Open your mouth.”

Amused, he did. He caught one piece, but the next hit him in the eye. “Ow!”

“Sorry!”

That didn’t stop her from throwing another piece.

“Hey! These are custom seats, and you’re making a mess!” He reached over to tickle her, which between delighted shrieks and writhing almost caused her to dump the whole bucket in the floorboards. Breathing heavily, the pair unexpectedly found themselves rather close upon the bench seat.

“I was _wondering_ how long it would take for you to come over here,” she teased, her heart fluttering in her chest. Jack’s breath hitched in his throat as her hand lifted to rest upon his chest, her long fingers exploring the contour of his collar bone.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

She traced the line of his jaw, fascinated. She’d never been _this close_ to a man before, she realized. Boys, certainly, but no one who exuded raw masculinity like Jack. It was ridiculously intoxicating, and every cell in her brain screamed _you are a fool!_ while every other part of her begged to let this go on _just a little longer._ His eyes tugged at something inside her, something in her _soul,_ and she didn’t want to stop.

“Why not?” she asked, coy.

“Because I’m the boy all the dads warn their little girls about. And _your_ Dad is the chief Warden.”

She laughed a little at that, hoping she didn’t betray how nervous she felt. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She craned her neck to brush her lips on his, hardly recognizing herself for her brazen action. Jack groaned, and was lost to her. He kissed her gently at first, but soon they fell down into a maddening spiral of locked lips, his tongue teasing and tangling with hers.

The popcorn was forgotten, and subsequently spilled.

Jack couldn’t bring himself to care.

He’d never been more turned on in his entire life, than with this gorgeous girl in his arms.

“I am regretting the decision to buy a car without a backseat,” he said between kisses, chasing her mouth with his. Then he remembered where he was, and _who_ this was—and waited for the slap.

However, Elizabeth simply let loose a breathy laugh, shifting to straddle his lap. “If you’d fixed my car we could have had one.”

She paused, shocked by her saucy comment, gauging Jack’s reaction from across the span of their noses. A small smile curled his lips, and his fingers delved into her hair, pulling her back to him. “This is just fine for now,” he assured her, before kissing her again.

They snogged for the rest of the movie, and only realized it was over when the other cars began starting up and rolling past. They separated with shaky laughs, Elizabeth’s cheeks burning bright red.

She’d never been so brazen in her life, her lips swollen from Jack’s kisses, and never had she felt more _free._

“It’s almost eleven, little girl.”

“I suppose you’d best take me home then,” she sighed, wishing she could stay out all night with him.

She shivered a little as he started the car, feeling the bass rumble of the engine in her bones. On the way home their hands seemed to find each other of their own volition, fingers sliding together.

They only let go when Jack had to shift.


	4. Knuckle Sandwich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack sheds some light on his enmity with Cutler Becket.

# 4\. A Knuckle Sandwich

 

_Riding along in my automobile / My baby beside me at the wheel / I stole a kiss at the turn of a mile / My curiosity runnin' wild… -Chuck Berry_

* * *

 

 

They rolled into her neighborhood at a quarter past eleven. “Want me to drop you off up the street?” he asked.

“Why?”

“I thought you might prefer not to be seen with me.”

She canted her head, her lower lip clasped between her teeth. She felt the urge to give in to such a precaution, but then the thought of it made her _angry._ This boy had been nothing but nice to her. Why _shouldn’t_ she be seen with him? “I like you, Jack. And I think I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks.”

Jack raised his eyebrows high at her unexpected language. Who _was_ this girl, he asked himself again. Besides the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen?

Somehow her words were a balm to his soul. He was so used to being the outsider, the lone wolf who hunted on the outskirts. The boy girls would kiss in the dark but not be caught _dead_ with in the light of day. Lizzy seemed different, but a part of him insisted _just wait. Come Monday she’ll go back to ignoring you again._

“Though if you’d prefer not to be interrogated by my father, I understand. But he really is different when he’s not working. At home, you know…”

A wry smile curled Jack’s lips. “I’ve had a few conversations with your Dad. He’s not so bad.”

“Oh?” Then it dawned on her what he meant. “ _Oh._ The thing with Cutler, I suppose.” The incident had caused an uproar at school, Mr. Becket demanding that animal be expelled for daring to lay a hand on his son. Principal Swann had insisted he only be suspended, and be allowed to continue his education. Her father had never really related all the details thought. “What _happened?_ ” she blurted before she could stop herself. “I mean, I know Cutler can be a wanker, but…”

Jack pressed his lips, looking off into the distance beyond the steering wheel. When so long had passed that Elizabeth felt certain he wouldn’t answer, he finally spoke, “I take my friend Josh home every day after school. We live close together, and we’ve been friends since we were kids. I never thought there would be a problem with meeting him in the parking lot. One day Cutler took exception, called him a terrible name that starts with an N. And told him not to set foot on our school grounds. So I fed him a knuckle sandwich. And I kept feeding him. I don’t really even remember all of it.”

Elizabeth’s lustrous brown eyes went wide with disbelief. “Did you ever tell my father _why_ you did it? I think he would have understood better…”

Jack just shook his head. “It was between me and Beckett.”

“Well…I’m glad you trounced him, then.”

“Are you?” Jack seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yes. People shouldn’t treat other people that way. It doesn’t matter if we’re white or black or…purple, for fuck’s sake.”

A ghost of a smile curled Jack’s lips. “You’ve got quite a mouth on you.”

She grimaced, biting her lip again. It was rather endearing, he thought, and he wanted that plump appendage between his own teeth. Just a little nibble, before pressing his mouth to hers once more…

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I like it. I like you, Lizzy.”

She smiled shyly, trying not to blush _again._ How square could she possibly be?

“I like you too,” she admitted.

“And I _really_ want to kiss you again.”

Before he could act upon the impulse there was a knock upon the window, causing them both to jump. Principal Swann’s face loomed through the glass, and he didn’t look terribly amused.

He opened the door before Elizabeth had a chance. “Hi Dad,” said Lizzy, playing it cool. She wanted to be an actress, she reminded herself, so _now_ was the time.

“It’s late.”

“I know. My car broke down. Jack found me and brought me home.”

Principal Swann lifted a graying eyebrow, uncertain he believed his daughter, his natural instinct for a lying teenager on high alert but warring with his desire to trust her. “Indeed? Where’s the car now?”

“Towed to his dad’s shop.”

Jack leaned over the seat to look at Weatherby. “We’ll have it fixed by Monday, sir,” he said, hoping he wouldn’t make himself a liar.

Weatherby leaned down to fix Jack with a stare, gauging the boy’s earnestness. In the end, he decided he believed him. Contrary to popular belief, Swann didn’t actually think Jack was a _bad_ kid. Misguided, more like. His father, on the other hand, had quite a reputation with the police in town.

However, that didn’t exactly mean he wanted _his daughter_ to go riding around town with him in this ridiculous hot rod of a car.

Weatherby hoped all the parts on the Fairlane would still be present when they got the car back. Teague’s Autobody was suspected to also be a chop-shop, though the law never managed to prove it.

“Very well. Thank you, Mr. Sparrow, for your assistance. I’ll take her from here.”

“Any time, Mr. Swann—”

His words were cut off by the slamming of the door.

Weatherby led the way back to the house. Before ducking inside Lizzy turned to blow Jack a kiss, and that small gesture gripped his heart almost more than making out at the movies for an hour had.

_Where did this girl come from?_

With a silly grin Jack pulled away from the curb, feeling as though he had the whole world on a string.


	5. Horizon: 1500 Miles

# 5\. Horizon: 1500 Miles

_Get your kicks on Route 66…_

* * *

 

 

“Must be some fine piece of tail, got you working on a Sunday.”

Jack started from the sound of his father’s voice, almost hitting his head on the hood of the Fairlane.

“It’s not like that, Dad,” he grumbled, adjusting a bolt. This damn thing had given him the runaround, but he almost had it all back together.

“It’s not?” asked the older man, a wry smile on his weathered face.

Jack extricated himself from under the hood, thinking it was time for a cigarette break.

“Nah. She’s…nice. She’s _different_.”

Teague’s eyebrows shot sky high at hearing _that_ from his rabble-rouser of a son. “ _Oh really?_ Good for you, boy. Good for you.” Smiling as though he knew a secret Jack was not privy to, the old man sauntered into the office, whistling under his breath. Eyes narrowed, Jack watched his father go.

Unsure what _that_ was all about, he decided he needed that cigarette.

 

**XXX**

 

Monday morning Jack rolled into the schoolyard parking lot behind the wheel of the butter yellow Fairlane. Quite a few eyebrows raised, and Elizabeth’s candy-colored posse tittered as he pulled in a few spaces away.

“Why does he have your car, Beth?” asked Mavis.

Ignoring her scornful tone, Elizabeth went to greet Jack, a genuine smile on her face. He tried not to drool as he watched her approach, in a cute yellow boat-neck swing dress and cardigan. She was so _different_ from all the other girls he knew. She looked pure as the driven snow, but underneath the façade there was something _molten hot_ , like a volcano just waiting to erupt.

“She’s ship shape now, baby girl,” said Jack, extending the keys towards her.

Elizabeth did not balk at the familiarity, her smile only widening. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said, her fingertips lingering on his just a bit longer than what was necessary. “What do I owe you?”

Jack shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, so he wouldn’t grab her up and kiss her. That would _kill_ his reputation as the coolest cat in school. “Nothin’. My pleasure.”

Elizabeth tilted her head, lips pursed in thought. “Then maybe…” She regarded him from beneath her long lashes, and that coy little look hit him like a punch to the gut. “We could see a movie again Saturday? My treat?”

Jack’s heart quickened in his chest, and before he could stop himself his head wagged like a dog’s eager tail. “Yeah, cool. I’d like that.”

Lizzy pressed her lips, a sly little smile curling the side of her mouth. “Should we take your car or mine?” she asked, and the subtext was not lost on Jack.

His heart somehow managed to drop to his feet and jump into his throat all at the same time. He wondered if maybe this was a test, and he found it was the first test in a _long_ time he really cared to pass.

“Let’s take my car,” he finally answered. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Elizabeth sighed a little, inwardly relieved. She didn’t care what people said. Jack Sparrow was a good man.

“Seven it is.”

A familiar bass rumble announced the arrival of Jack’s car long before the Bel Air rolled into sight. The car pulled up beside the curb, Jack’s friend Joshamee at the wheel. He waved at Jack, and his features took on great surprise when Elizabeth waved back in greeting.

“Catch you later, love.”

Jack chucked Elizabeth under the chin, that devil-may-care smile upon his lips, but a new warmth in his eyes. She watched as he ambled to the passenger side of the Bel Air, and the pair motored away as though the first bell wouldn’t ring in five minutes. Too cool for school, she supposed, and turned back to the astonished looks of her posse of friends.

She was in for an inquisition now.

**XXX**

 

Elizabeth and Jack shared a drawing class on Wednesdays and Fridays, a thing of which Elizabeth had never taken much notice of until now. She could hardly concentrate on what Mrs. Green said about the wooden figure model on the head table. _Gesture, form…Jack is sitting_ two _rows behind me!_

In the end she gave in, folding up a note and passing it back, her eyes never leaving Mrs. Greene. With a crooked smile Jack unfolded the little paper football, reading words in a fine flowing hand:

 

_Is it Saturday yet? I feel like I’m losing my mind!_

Jack wrote back in a scratchy block text:

 

_I know what you mean. What kind of music do you like?_

 

Lizzy quickly answered:

 

_I love Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry!_

Jack almost laughed out loud for his good fortune. For the umpteenth time he wondered _where did this girl come from?_

Most of the rest of the period passed in radio silence, and Lizzy’s heart fell, wondering if she’d said something unforgivably uncool. Someone nudged her from behind as she was cleaning up her pencils, and she was delighted to receive one more note from Jack. It appeared he hadn’t spent the period drawing the still life as Mrs. Green instructed. Instead he’d made a fun doodle of the view of the rear end of a Cadillac convertible driving off into the sunset, the road converging at the horizon. He’d paid attention to the lessons on perspective, she mused. There were two people in the car, a dark-headed man driving, a fair-haired dame with her head on his shoulder, her curled ponytail blowing in the wind. A sign on the side of the road read _Route 66. Horizon: 1500 Miles._

Elizabeth didn’t stop smiling the whole rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Route 66 was an iconic highway traversing the USA from Chicago all the way to California. It's like, the great American roadtrip route. Parts of the route still exist as a "scenic byway" , part of which even goes through my own hometown here in Missouri. :)


	6. Brave New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack takes Elizabeth on a proper date, and once again her world expands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you got Chuck Berry blasting on high? Ok, you may proceed. ;)

# 6\. Brave New World

_Hail hail rock n roll!_

* * *

 

 

Jack arrived at Lizzy’s house at 7:00 sharp. She ran for the landing when she heard the doorbell ring, but her father beat her to the door. “Finish getting ready, sweetheart. Mr. Sparrow and I are going to have a little talk.”

An uneasy feeling in her stomach, Elizabeth did as she was told. She’d been amazed when her father hadn’t outright refused to let her go out with Jack, so what could possibly go wrong?

She could hear their murmuring voices below as she finished her cat-eye makeup and touched up her lipstick. She’d curled her hair and pulled it back into a pony tail with a little bump, just like Jack’s drawing. She wore a mint green polka dot halter top swing dress with heels, and a cardigan to cover up. It wasn’t _much_ dressier than what she’d usually wear to school, and she hoped she didn’t look too much of a square.

When enough time had passed she made her way down the stairs. Jack froze mid-sentence at the sight of her, his mouth hanging a little bit open. As soon as he realized his jaw audibly clicked shut.

Elizabeth herself paused on the stairs at the sight of Jack; he was so _handsome_ it hurt, somewhere indefinable deep in her chest. He’d trimmed his beard, and wore a surprisingly nice button down shirt with a waistcoat, his cuffed dungarees, and boots. Somehow he managed to look dapper yet every bit the rogue that he was. He clutched a dark gray fedora to his chest, and a bouquet of daisies in his other hand. “Oh Jack, are those for me?”

“Unless your father wants them?” he jested, shooting a hopeful look in Weatherby’s direction.

Despite his best efforts to remain stoic, Weatherby’s mouth twisted in a smile. “Elizabeth, you look lovely.”

A little flummoxed, Jack nodded in agreement, extending the flowers to her. Elizabeth sniffed them delicately. “Mrs. Carrington would be so envious of these!” she exclaimed. “She’s our next door neighbor. She prides herself for the size of her daisies.”

Jack mouth twisted a little, but he managed to suppress a highway-man’s grin. Lizzy took the flowers into the kitchen to find a vase.

Her statuesque mother joined them in the foyer, and did not look pleased in the least. However, Elizabeth was grateful she remained silent. Sometimes Mrs. Swann could be quite vocal in her judgement of other people.

She would save it for her friends at bridge, Elizabeth reckoned.

“Remember what I said? Back no later than midnight,” said Weatherby sternly.

“Of course, Papa.” Elizabeth kissed him on the cheek.

“Yes, sir.”

They waved goodbye and escaped out the door in record time.

On the front stoop Jack offered her his arm in a playfully chivalrous gesture, and she let him lead her down the front walk. He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “You look _amazing_.”

“I don’t look like a square?”

Jack laughed. “You? Baby, you’re the coolest Queen on the block.”

He held the door of the Bel Air for her, and with a heart full of a floating sparkling feeling, she got inside.

 

**XXX**

 As they drove Jack proposed they grab a bite to eat, and then rather than a movie, he had a surprise if she was game. Elizabeth would rather _die_ than admit she wasn’t game for _anything_ Jack might propose, so she eagerly agreed.

After a pleasant dinner they piled in the Bel Air and rumbled over to the far side of town. Jack pulled up in front of a run-down brick building. There were several other cars parked around, but several of the street lights were out. “What is this place?” Elizabeth couldn’t hide the apprehension from her tone.

“Trust me, love.”

Determined to play it cool, she took his arm again, and let him lead her to the backdoor of the building. A big black man leaned against the wall of the building, his eyes obscured by the brim of a newsboy hat.

Strains of noise drifted through the door, but their identity indiscernible.

The man simply nodded at Jack, and the pair went inside. A long dark stairwell descended into a basement. The noise was louder now, low notes that almost sounded like a heartbeat. Intrigued, Elizabeth looked to Jack.

He offered no explanation, just that rogue smile that caused her heart to pitter-pat-pat in her chest. “Ladies first, doll.” At the foot of the stairs he held the door for her, and the sounds from inside hit her like a truck. Guitar, bass, and drums. Intrigued, she stepped inside the dark room, her eyes adjusting to the low lights.

The room was filled with colored folks, and all eyes fixed upon her questioningly. Elizabeth faltered, unused to being regarded with such open question.

When Jack joined her most of the audience immediately turned back to the stage.

“Have you ever heard Rhythm and Blues?” asked Jack, leaning down to speak near her ear.

She started a little, shivering from the sensation of his lips so close to her skin.

“I’ve never heard anything like it!” she confessed, fascinated by the dark men on the stage, their sad lyrics and mournful guitars wailing a story of lament.

“Come on, let’s find a table.”

With a hand on the small of her back Jack led her to an open booth. They sat down, and Jack felt his heart _thump thump_ almost _painfully_ as Elizabeth shrugged out of her cardigan, baring her lovely shoulders. She smiled a little when she noticed him staring, pleased that he seemed affected.

She’d been on dates with boys before, and always it seemed like a fun little game. She’d never cared much one way or the other, if it went well or if they wanted to see her again.

They always did, anyways.

For the first time in her life, Elizabeth desperately wanted this evening to go well. She wanted Jack to like her, to think she was hip and to want to spend more time with her. When she thought of the spectrum of their opposing worlds, it almost seemed like a fool’s errand, like they were destined to lose. Though perhaps she didn’t yet recognize it, the challenge fueled her determination.

It wasn’t long before a waitress came over, a beautiful African American woman with very big hair and a hint of a Caribbean accent in her words. “Wily Jack,” she greeted, her smile startlingly white in the dark room. “Who your friend?”

“Tia, this is Elizabeth,” said Jack, speaking loud so as to be heard over the wailing notes. “When’s Josh coming on?”

“At de end of Rex’s set. You thirsty?”

“Sure. We’ll have two of the usual.”

“Sure ting, handsome.”

Tia sauntered off, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the swing she put in her walk. She glanced over to see that Jack was also watching. He grinned when he realized he’d been caught, and pulled Elizabeth closer in with an arm around her waist. They listened to the music, mesmerized, and Jack’s smile widened when he saw Elizabeth’s head bobbing with the beat.

“You feel it _here,_ right?” he said, placing a hand over her heart.

Elizabeth’s breath hitched for the unexpected contact, his rough hand so warm against her skin. She wasn’t sure if he meant the music, or _him,_ but she nodded, covering his hand with hers.

“It’s giving me chills,” she said, rubbing her arms.

Jack pulled her closer, and she nestled her head in the bend of his neck, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Their drinks arrived not long after, and Elizabeth took a sip, expecting a coke.

However, the sweet bubbly liquid had a little _bite_ at the end she wasn’t used to.

“What is this?”

Jack smiled. “Rum and coke. Ever had it?”

 _Of course not,_ she thought, but didn’t dare say it aloud. “Nope.” She took another drink, and decided she liked the warm feeling in the pit of her belly.

“Like it?”

“I think so.”

Jack laughed a little, and she shivered again as his fingers traced the shell of her ear and the curve of her shoulder.

Soon the act changed, and Jack’s friend Joshamee came out on stage, a beautiful red Gibson electric guitar strapped around his neck. The energy of the club instantly changed, people perking up and making their way to the dance floor in front of the dais. “How’s everybody doin’ tonight?” he asked, his wide smile infectious across the entire room. He received _whoops_ and _whoos_ in response. His fingers danced across the fretboard, a quick lick on the guitar that sent the energy in the room sky high. Jack’s smile widened to a genuine flash of teeth. “The blues are fine and all,” said Josh, a cheeky smile in place. “But we are alive and the world is beautiful. I say let’s rock and roll!”

He started to play, and immediately the crowd on the dance floor started to step, sway, and spin, wide smiles on everyone’s faces. He played covers of the favorites, Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, and Jerry Lee Lewis with professional ease. He also played some of his own stuff, which was just as good.

Jack led Elizabeth out onto the dance floor, and she’d never felt more alive than this moment in his arms, thrown about in twirls and spins and sliding steps. Her body came alive in his hands, and he molded her like clay, leading her with ease. She felt ridiculously free, as though they might just fly right off the floor, and the feeling from before filled her bones, her every cell.

She didn’t _want_ this night to end.

After several songs Joshamee paused, taking a drink. Eagerly everyone awaited the next song, and he smiled like a self-satisfied cat, perfectly aware of his audience. “I don’t know, gang. My hands are kind of tired.” The crowd gave the expected _no’s!_ and _awws!,_ the pretty girls shooting pouting looks up at the stage. “Maybe I need some help?” The crowd cheered, jumping up and down. “See, my friend Jack is in the crowd tonight. He’s a real cool cat, and he’s got a _mean_ picking hand!”

Jack shook his head, unable to suppress his smile. “ _Asshole,”_ he mouthed at Josh, only causing his friend’s white smile to flash wider.

“Come on up, brother. Show that girl what you’ve got!”

Elizabeth paid Jack a questioning look, a teasing challenge in her eyes. “You play guitar?”

“I may dabble.”

“Let’s see it then,” she challenged with a shit-eating grin.

Jack sighed, then suddenly grabbed her up, planting a big wet kiss on her lips. “You asked for it, dolly.”

He left her flushed and wobble-legged to ascend the stage, accepting Joshamee’s guitar, and his friend moved to the front to focus on vocals. The first strains of _No Particular Place To Go_ emitted from the guitar, Jack’s hands like magic upon the apple-colored instrument. Immediately the crowd began to dance again, and Elizabeth had no problem grooving by herself, her eyes all for Jack. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to make this instrument sing under his touch. She thought she just might understand the feeling. Soon another single gentleman found her, and they danced like fools, grinning to the music.

“You don’t look like the kind of girl who makes friends with Jack,” he teased between twirling her like a dervish.

Elizabeth laughed. Maybe it was true. Maybe it didn’t matter? With a rum and coke singing in her veins and the electric energy of the music and the crowd buzzing around her, she felt closer to something _divine_ than she ever had any other time in her life, even in church. In that moment she felt certain none of the lines in the sand that had been drawn by society mattered. Not race or class, not the color of your skin or the size of your wallet. All that mattered was _this._

The heartbeat of the music bound them all as one, and it was _good_. 

“I don’t really know what kind of girl I am?” she finally answered, laughing as he led her through a complicated figure eight step. “I’m Lizzy.”

“Davy. Pleased to meet you.”

“Like wise.”

The song ended, and Davy tipped his hat. “Well Lizzy, I think Jack’s a lucky man, no matter what kind of girl you are.”

Jack relinquished the guitar back to Josh, and retreated back down the stage to find Lizzy. He snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her to him a _little_ possessively. His grin for Davy had a _bit_ of an edge to it Lizzy didn’t entirely understand. “Davy Jones. What’s the word, mockingbird?” They exchanged a handshake that maybe was more of a masculine caveman grip contest.

“Same ol’, same ol’. Say, how’s the Pearl?”

“She’s just fine,” said Jack, and Elizabeth detected a new tension in him as he answered.

“That’s good, Jack. Real good.”  Davy snapped and pointed at Lizzy. “This little thing’s sweet as sugar candy. I’d keep her close if I were you, Jackie.”

“Will do,” said Jack, narrowing his eyes a little. Davy gave a little salute, smirking before he turned on his heel. They watched as he wove through the crowd to their server, Tia, and whispered something in her ear. She shot him a saucy look before continuing on her way to deliver the drinks on her tray.

“What was that about?” she asked.

Jack shrugged. “Nothing to speak of.”

Though Elizabeth did not believe him in the least, she thought that maybe it wasn’t her place to demand an answer. Not yet, anyway.

A group of people entering the club caught his attention, causing him to smile. “Hey, there’s my crew! Come on, I want you to meet them.” Her hand clasped firmly in his, Jack led her through the crowd on the floor. His _crew_ gravitated to the same booth Jack had chosen, and Lizzy guessed it must be their usual hang out. He introduced her to a very short young man named Marty, a taciturn fellow named Cotton, two brothers named Ragetti and Pintell, and a tall caramel-skinned beauty named Anamaria.

As the old friends settled in and immediately began horsing around Elizabeth found she could not take her eyes off Anamaria. She wore all black, a sleeveless blouse and _trousers_ with wingtip shoes _._ She slouched in her seat, laughed _loudly_ with the men, smoked, and told bawdy jokes that had them all _howling_ in their seats. She didn’t act like a proper lady at all, and yet she _exuded_ a raw self-confidence that fascinated Elizabeth. She seemed so _free,_ and Lizzy found herself envying Anamaria for reasons she herself had not completely begun to understand.

At some point Anamaria seemed to sense Elizabeth’s eyes upon her, and the saucy mulatta paid Lizzy a red-lipped smirk before returning to the conversation at hand. She and Marty were having a little argument about poetry. Marty seemed to think the art form had died, that Whitman was a hack, and that everyone would be better off just sticking to the Bard and be done with it. With a cigarette in hand, Anamaria pointed her index finger between Marty’s eyes, rather threateningly. “ _I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by_ _madness,_ _starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix…_ ”

“ _That_ fucking thing again,” Marty groaned, and the rest of the crew laughed at some inside joke.

Jack watched the exchange with a fond smile, chuckling, his arm slung around Lizzy’s shoulders. He seemed at ease, like a man at home in his living room here in this dark club, discussing poetry and art with his friends. He was still the King of Cool, but maybe not so _en garde_ as Lizzy now realized he was outside this world.

Marty turned to Elizabeth, one eyebrow raised. “You look like a girl who appreciates the classics. What do you think about Shakespeare?”

Elizabeth’s posture straightened, not expecting to be included in the exchange. “I…I enjoy his words very much,” she confessed. “I’m to play Juliet in the winter production this year.”

There were a few surprised _ooos_ and congratulations from the group. Before anything more could be said on the matter Joshamee joined their table, appropriating Anamaria’s drink and taking a deep swig. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself!” he teased.

“You were absolutely brilliant!” said Elizabeth, touching his hand warmly.

Joshamee jumped a little, surprised by the contact, but offered a shy smile. “Thanks! But how about this cat?” he said, punching Jack on the shoulder.

Elizabeth turned to regard Jack with a warm smile. “He’s _alright_ ,” she teased, batting her lashes exaggeratedly, brushing a stray curl behind his ear.

Fuck if he didn’t blush a little, Jack realized with one part annoyance and two parts floating on cloud nine.

 

**XXX**

 

Elizabeth excused herself for the ladies room, and Anamaria decided to join her. As they freshened their makeup Elizabeth found herself staring once more, as Anamaria expertly painted on ruby red lip colour. Anamaria paid her a sliding sideways glance, rather reminding Elizabeth of a cat. “You know,” she said, shutting her handbag with a _click._ “I heard Cutler Beckett was cast as Romeo in your little school play.”

Elizabeth sighed heavily, looking down at the sink. “Unfortunately, that is the case.”

Anamaria gauged Elizabeth’s reaction, dark eyes sharp as obsidian and keen as a hawk’s. “Have you noticed that “P” scar on Jack’s forearm?”

She had, but hadn’t occasion or the nerve to ask about it yet. “Yes?”

“After Jack rearranged Cutler’s face, the little shitbird cornered Jack in the back of the shop with a couple big members of the football team. They held Jack down while Cutler started to carve a B into Jack’s arm. He didn’t get to finish because Teague chased them off with a lead pipe. Maybe they call Jack the misfit, but that boy is a _psychopath._ ”

Elizabeth visibly paled, her stomach twisting up in knots. “ _Fuck_ , that’s awful. I…I didn’t know.”

Anamaria raised one sculpted brow, her eyes fixed on Lizzy like a laser beam. “All Jack’s life, it seems like people are always carving pieces out of him. He acts tough, but he’s got a big heart.” She pointed one red-lacquered fingernail at Lizzy. “I’ve known Jack a long time, and I see that he likes you. I don’t get it, but that’s besides the point. You carve any pieces out of him and you’ll have _me_ to answer to. You dig?”

Elizabeth found that she quite believed her. “I don’t want to hurt Jack.”

“Good.”

Anamaria turned back to the mirror, smoothing a section of her hair.

“What were you quoting earlier?” Elizabeth asked. “When Marty said _not that again._ ”

In complete contrast to just moments before, Anamaria’s lips spread in a wide smile. “You don’t know _Howl_?”

Elizabeth shook her head no.

“Oh sweetheart, it will _change_ your _life_.” She took a little book out of her purse, handing it to Lizzy. “Allen Ginsberg. Here, read up. There’ll be a quiz next time we see you.” She fixed Elizabeth with a pointed look. “There’s going to be a next time, right?”

Elizabeth nodded eagerly, looking down at the little book in her hands with curiosity and awe. “Yes. There will,” she asserted, determined to make it so. _O brave new world, That has such people in ’t!_ she thought. How she _wanted_ to return to this beautiful world with Jack as her guide again.

 

**XXX**

 

Joshamee went on for his second set, and Lizzy and Jack danced some more, enchanted by the magic of their bodies moving in tandem together. His hands were rough but strong, and she found she adored the way they felt upon her, pulling her this way and spinning her that. Now she was grateful that he hadn’t let her drink another rum and coke, insisting on plain soda or water instead. She felt dizzy but madly happy, as though her heart might just flutter out from inside her chest.

Elizabeth was grateful for a slow dance, and she marveled at how easy it was to press her cheek to Jack’s and sway to the sweet song. “Are you having fun tonight, Lizzy?” he asked, his voice a low bass rumble in her ear.

“I’ve never had so much fun in my entire _life_ ,” she told him, and she meant every word. Jack laughed a little, telling himself she exaggerated, even if her words made his pulse quicken. It was her turn to laugh at herself when she admitted, “I’m so _glad_ my car broke in front of your shop.”

Jack kissed her cheek, and his soft lips upon her skin made her knees tremble. He murmured against her temple, “Me too, Lizzy. Me too.”

The song came to a close, and on a lark Jack took out his pocket watch. It had belonged to his grandfather, but still managed to keep time. He’d forgotten all about that pest _time,_ until just then. Lizzy had a way of making him forget about everything else in the whole world, when she was in his arms.

Time, however, stops for no man, woman, or pair of star crossed lovers.

It was ten minutes to midnight.

“Oh _shit_. Lizzy, we’ve got to go.”

Hand in hand, they raced for the door, waving to Jack’s crew of poets and misfits on the way out. Understanding all too well, their friends laughed and egged them on, calls of “Good luck!” and “Nice knowing you!” trailing them out the door.

Jack gunned the Bel Air across town, and Elizabeth could not suppress a maniac’s grin of delight, even if she gripped the door handle for dear life. She’d _never_ gone so fast or driven so recklessly, but neither had she ever felt so _free_. For the umpteenth time that night, she felt like she and Jack could fly.

They pulled up to Lizzy’s immaculate little white house with a minute to spare, the whole neighborhood probably awoken by the loud hot rod outside. Lizzy felt certain the whole neighborhood must have watched them run hand in hand up the walk, laughing with exhilaration. She didn’t care in the least. “We made it,” she giggled, gasping for breath on her front stoop.

“In the Pearl? Of course we did, darlin’. She’s nigh _uncatchable,_ ” said Jack with a toothsome grin. His hat was knocked a little sideways from their mad dash, and she reached up to straighten it. Jack’s smile faded to something else, heat simmering in his midnight eyes. Elizabeth realized that compared to their last outing, he’d barely kissed her at all. At the end of this amazing evening, she _badly_ wanted to remedy that.

As though drawn by strings, the couple began to slowly near closer, eyes half-lidded with desire.

Principal Swann chose that moment to open the front door, and the couple sprang apart as though on fire. She could hear the cuckoo clock in the living room chiming midnight, and she was glad it was always _a little_ slow.

“Evening, Mr. Swann.”

“Not a minute to spare, Jack.” There was only a _little_ disapproval in his tone. Elizabeth could tell that he was actually teasing the young man, but it was a thing only one who knew him well could detect.

“But here she is, punctual _and_ in one piece,” said the young man with a smile that could have charmed water into wine.

Somehow, Weatherby seemed immune. “I should _hope_ so.”

Jack took Lizzy’s hand, kissing the back of it sweetly. “Goodnight, Elizabeth. Thank you for a _delightful_ evening, you are lovely as the day—or night, is long.”

It took every ounce of self-control not to burst out laughing for Jack’s exaggerated farewell, on his best behavior for the benefit of her father. Her full lips twisted in a little smirk.

“Thank _you_ Jack. I had a marvelous time.”

Jack clasped his hands, bowing a little as he retreated down the stoop. Weatherby went back inside, and as his back turned Elizabeth quickly blew Jack a kiss. With a jester’s grin he caught it, tucking it into his breast pocket for the lonely night ahead.

 _See you later?_ he mouthed, and eagerly she nodded _YES!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, is it too much a stretch to imagine Jack hanging out with pioneers of Rock and Roll and beatniks? :P  
> Thank you for reading and your comments! They make me feel slightly less crazy for writing this, lol... Hope you all enjoyed.


	7. The Way Things Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin of Elizabeth's flowers are revealed, and Elizabeth gets a dressing down.

# The Way Things Are

* * *

 

Sunday morning Elizabeth came down to breakfast, to find the vase that had contained her daisies strangely empty.

“What happened to my flowers?” she inquired, sliding into the seat beside her father.

Weatherby pressed his lips, his eyes sliding in his wife’s direction. Mrs. Swann stood at the stove, flipping a pancake. “I had to dispose of the evidence, _dear_ ,” said her mother in a tone that was all sugar on top with the edge of daggers underneath. “ _That boy_ stole them from Mrs. Carrington next door. She lamented the bare patch in her plantings for twenty minutes to me this morning.”

Elizabeth missed her cue for outraged indignity, giggling a little at the thought of Jack clipping the prized posies in broad daylight. _A rogue_ and _a romantic_.

She decided she liked outlaw flowers, very much.

“You think that’s funny, do you?”

 “Well, she’s always lording over you with the size of her daisies and her roses. You complain about it all the time. So surely you have to admit it’s a _little_ funny.”

Mrs. Swann’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “If you know what’s good for your reputation, Elizabeth, you will _not_ see that boy again!”

Elizabeth almost spilled her tea, her mother’s outrage so alarmed her.

“I think you’re over reacting, mother. Jack is a very nice boy.”

“That _boy_ trounced Cutler within an inch of his life! And Constance Beckett is in my bridge club! What do you expect me to _say_?”

The true source of Mrs. Swann’s anxiety revealed itself, and Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed to slits, the troops called forth and her defenses raised.

Weatherby wisely stayed out of the conversation, hiding behind his newspaper. He sensed World War III was in the making in his kitchen. Behind closed doors, the women of his household were notoriously headstrong.

“I don’t know why you would be expected to say anything about my personal affairs,” said Elizabeth, her words deceptively cool.

“People will _talk,_ Beth.”

“Let them talk. Do you even know _why_ Jack hit Cutler?”

She regretted mentioning it as soon as it left her mouth, remembering Jack’s words. _It was between me and Cutler._ It wasn’t her secret to tell.

“Probably because he’s an animal. His family is full of misfits and criminals and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. The whole Sparrow clan is a band of merry thieves and everyone knows it.”

Elizabeth frowned at that accusation. Misfits, maybe, but criminals? _Thieves_? It seemed a bit _much_.

“Why _did_ Jack hit Cutler, Elizabeth?” asked Weatherby, before his wife could continue her tirade.

Elizabeth sighed, looking down at her tea. She didn’t want to betray Jack’s trust, but…but she wanted her father to know that Jack _wasn’t_ a brute. He was a man who stood up for what was right, even if it meant risking everything, even if it made him bleed. “Cutler called Jack’s friend Josh a…a _terrible_ name.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say it, the words sticky and black as tar on her tongue, so _ugly_ in their inherent hatred. She remembered Joshamee’s infectious smile, and how beautifully he’d played the guitar the night previous—it made her _sick_ just to think them. If Cutler Beckett had been in the room _she_ would have trounced him all over again.

Weatherby, however, seemed to understand well enough. He nodded thoughtfully. “I suspected it might have been the case.”

Mrs. Swann stood in the kitchen with one hand on her hip, her spatula clutched rather threateningly in the other. She took Lizzy’s meaning too, but not the same way as Weatherby. “Everyone has their place, Elizabeth. Cutler reminded that boy that there are _rules_ we all have to follow _._ It’s just the way things are!”

Suddenly feeling sick in her heart and her stomach, Elizabeth stood to return to her room. “I’m not hungry anymore,” she sighed. “Excuse me.”

Strains of her mother’s agitated voice drifted up the stairs after her, and Weatherby’s more restrained tones answered.

Elizabeth didn’t care what they said. She intended to see Jack again, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Your comments make my day! :)


	8. Cutlet

# 8\. Cutlet

_Juliet, the dice was loaded from the start._

* * *

 

When Monday came around Elizabeth’s first order of business was paying a visit to Mrs. Beasley’s office, the school drama teacher. She asked if she and Lydia Sanders, cast to play Juliet’s nurse, could switch places. She did not mention her aversion to Cutler Beckett, but claimed to have a lot on her plate that year.

“But Beth, you _have_ to play Juliet!” insisted Mrs. Beasley, shocked that Elizabeth would even consider otherwise. “You’re the prettiest girl in the troupe. In the _school!_ ”

Elizabeth frowned a little, annoyed that her looks seemed to be the only reason she’d been given the lead role. “Lydia is pretty.”

“Not Juliet pretty,” Mrs. Beasley clipped, turning back to tests she was grading. “You _have_ to, Elizabeth. You simply _must._ I won’t hear otherwise. You should be _proud._ ”

Effectively dismissed, Elizabeth stood from her seat, sufficiently flummoxed. A frustrated tear formed at the corner of her eye, but she quickly banished it away, keeping a stiff upper lip.

 

**XXX**

 

Later there was a fire drill, sirens wailing all across the school. The students filed out after their teachers, reposing upon the lawn and the parking lots as checks were made. The first bite of fall’s chill had begun to make its way into the air, and Elizabeth rubbed her arms, huddling against the cold.

She straightened when a heavy jacket that smelled of tobacco and Old Spice was placed around her shoulders, the remnants of body heat still clinging to the lining. With a smile she turned to find Jack behind her in his jeans and white T, hands shoved in his pockets. “Thank you.”

A soft smile curled his lips for her, and for some reason it tugged at her heartstrings in an almost _painful_ way. “Sure thing, darlin’. Got any plans after school?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Play practice.”

Jack’s smile widened. “Oh yeah, I forgot you’re fair Juliet.” She dreaded that he might ask more questions about it, but he seemed content to leave it at that. “Any chance I can see you Saturday then?”

She looked down at her toes, a blush now warming her entire body. “There’s a good chance,” she answered, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Cool.”

“But…you might have to pick me up down the block,” said Elizabeth, sheepish.

Jack’s face fell a little, but a part of him had been expecting this, no matter how well it seemed things had gone. “Your dad doesn’t like me.”

“My father likes you fine, actually,” said Elizabeth. “But my mother…has some unkind ideas about who you are. I’m sorry, Jack. It’s not fair, and I understand if you would rather spare yourself the headache…”

She found her voice hitched in her throat at the thought that he just might pass her by for someone easier to court.

Jack, however, would have none of it. He chucked Lizzy under the chin, turning her doe-eyed gaze back up to his. “Sweetheart, I know what people say about my family. Some of it’s even true. But I would break you out from Alcatraz, if that’s what it would take to see you Saturday. I think we’ll find a way.”

Elizabeth released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and she laughed at herself shakily. “I’m glad.”

The bell rang again, signaling that the students should go back to their classrooms. Elizabeth shrugged out of his jacket, offering it back to him. However, he waved her off. “Give it back to me Saturday,” he said, and with a fluid gesture of hand that resembled tipping a hat, he sauntered back towards the school. She watched him go, clutching the heavy leather garment to her chest like a talisman, her heart full to bursting.

 

**XXX**

 

Elizabeth found herself dreading the last bell. The theatre company was due to rehearse Act I Scene 5 of Romeo and Juliet. _The balcony scene._

There were _two_ kisses.

Cutler had been shooting her smarmy looks all day, even so confident as to blow her a kiss in chemistry. She rolled her eyes and ignored him.

He wasn’t really a _bad_ actor, truth be told. He had a natural gift for lying, and it was no surprise when he announced one day in history that he planned to pursue a career in politics. His father’s money would no doubt aim in that goal as well.

As they ran through the lines she kept faltering, a problem she usually did not have in a play. When they took a little break Cutler had the cheek to plunk down beside her, saying, “If I knew you’d be this flustered I would have offered to practice sooner.”

He meant _the kiss_ and Elizabeth’s hand twitched with the urge to slap him.

“I’ll manage,” she informed him coldly, and he meandered off to horse around with some of the other boys.

When the company reconvened their practice was only made worse when out the corner of her eye Elizabeth noticed Jack slip into the theatre, taking a seat far in the back. He smiled and waved a little, of which she returned half-heartedly. In that moment she wished the floor would open up and _swallow_ her.

As Jack realized just who was playing Romeo his expression faded from cool-amused to cool-stoic, _fast._

“ _O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair._ ” Cutler pressed a hand to his breast, feigning affectation, and Elizabeth narrowly resisted the urge to push him off the stage. He was lucky they were not actually practicing upon the balcony, as it had yet to be built.

Suddenly a different idea occurred to her. One that might ruin her career as an actress at this school forever, but it just might be worth it.

“ _Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake,”_ she said, waiting for the opportune moment.

“ _Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take_.” Cutler leaned in to claim his kiss, and Elizabeth could _feel_ Jack’s eyes boring into them.

At the last second she spurned Cutler’s advance, which wasn’t that hard to do considering their difference of height, laughing lightly. “I’m sorry,” she said as he regarded her with a puzzled look. “It’s just…” He raised his eyebrows, hanging on her words. “It’s just that you’re so _short_ , Cutlet. I mean _Cutler_.” Some of the company snickered at her little joke.

Instantly, Romeo’s face turned tomato red.

Cutler was _extremely_ sensitive about his diminutive stature.

Ignoring him, Elizabeth took Lydia’s hand, positioning her beside Cutler. Lydia was a good foot shorter than Elizabeth, and the same height as Cutler. “See?” she said, turning to Mrs. Beasley. “They’re a perfect match, and Lydia would make a _beautiful_ Juliet. She’s a wonderful actress, I know she could do it.” Lydia straightened, surprised and proud to hear such high praise from the Queen of the senior class.

Mrs. Beasley, however, did not seem amused. “No!” she protested, stamping her foot. “She won’t do!” A rather _unkind_ assertion, considering.

Movement in the back of the theatre caught Lizzy’s eye, and she watched as Jack slipped silently out the back again.

“She’ll be brilliant!” Lizzy insisted. “I’ll be right back!”

The company watched with amusement and surprise as Elizabeth kicked off her shoes and loped on long legs up the center aisle, throwing her weight against the back door in the most unladylike way. For a moment she was blinded by the bright sunlight, but she soon honed on her target. “Jack!” she called, running to catch up.

He paused, posture stiff, but did not immediately turn to face her.

“Jack?” she said again, nearing closer.

“That was a fast trick, Lizzy. Wonder if you would have let him kiss you if I hadn’t dropped in,” he said over his shoulder.

“I don’t like it either, Jack.”

“But you’ll do it anyway.” The accusation in his tone cut her like a knife.

“I’ve wanted to play Juliet since…since I was a little girl,” she confessed. “And I asked Mrs. Beasley to let me play Juliet’s nurse, but she won’t let me.”

“Clearly she is the master of everything you do.”

The dig hit home, but Elizabeth couldn’t stop herself from trying to justify herself. “Acting is my dream, Jack. I want…” She realized she’d never really admitted this aloud to _anyone._ Her mother wanted her to get married after she graduated. Her father wanted her to go to secretary’s school. And what did _she_ want? She’d never dared confess it to anyone but her diary before. “I want to be a film star. I want to go to Los Angeles and leave this sleepy little town where nothing ever happens behind.”

“And kissing Cutler Beckett is going to get you there?”

“Jack, it’s just a play!” Elizabeth bit her lip. “It wasn’t personal, before you.” She laughed a little, at herself, at her _life_. “ _Nothing_ was personal, before you. I walk around like a puppet. I look pretty and I say the right things and I play the perfect principal’s daughter…and now I feel like I might explode.” She was a coil of slow match, and Jack was the flame that ignited her fuse.

Being with Jack was like waking up and seeing in color for the first time, after living her whole life submerged in a hazy black and white dream.

Elizabeth reached out to touch him, her hand smoothing down his spine. She found he trembled beneath her touch, like a race horse anticipating the crack of the gun.

He tried to banish the clamor in his head, the hissing voices that sometimes got him into _a lot_ of trouble. The last thing he wanted to do was let the maelstrom loose here, in front of Lizzy. She mattered. She mattered _too much._ But when he closed his eyes to try to calm himself down all he saw was Beckett leaning in to put his lips on her, and it all bled to _red_.

In the end he shrugged away from her hand, stepping away, his body rigid as stone. “Do what you have to do, Lizzy. I just can’t watch.”

With that parting shot he stalked off, leaving Elizabeth like an island in the middle of the sea, lost and alone. She was tempted to crumple on the walk and cry, but instead she lifted her chin, and calmly walked back to the theatre.

Meanwhile, the volcano rumbled inside her heart, threatening to erupt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments! They never fail to brighten my day! :)


	9. Real Life Romeo

# 9\. Real Life Romeo

_Juliet, the dice was loaded from the start_

* * *

 

 

Later that night, Lizzy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Jack’s leather jacket kept her company by her side, the smell of leather, tobacco, and _him_ wafting up from its seams. She wondered if she would get the opportunity to return it Saturday, or if he was finished with her for good.

There was a _tink_ against the window pane. She ignored it until it sounded again. _Tink, tink._

She went to the window, opening it as quietly as she could. Jack stood down below, a rather forlorn expression on his face. “Jack? What are you doing? It’s past midnight!” she whispered as loud as she dared.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

He looked down at his boots. “I’m sorry I lost my cool earlier. I don’t want you to give up anything you want to do for me.”

“I quit the play,” she admitted.

In the end she’d caused quite a scene, which was the last thing she’d wanted but there was no avoiding it. Mrs. Beasley refused Lydia with such adamancy that the girl ran off in tears. Cutler was enraged and demanded an apology Elizabeth refused to give. Much shouting ensued. In the end, Elizabeth simply walked out.

There was no way to keep the peace _and_ keep her peace of mind. Her behavior went against everything she’d ever been taught about being a _lady._ She’d been trained since she was a girl to just shut her mouth and cope. But Elizabeth finally decided she’d had _enough_. Enough of living up to other people’s expectations, and enough of doing things not because they made her happy, but because they would please _the crowd_.

Jack’s brow furrowed, which wasn’t the reaction she’d expected. “What? Lizzy, no.”

“I couldn’t do it,” she insisted.

“Why?”

“You know why. Cutler Beckett makes me sick. I would _much_ rather spend my time kissing _you._ ”

Jack sighed, kicking the grass a little. He had the grace to look embarrassed, though he could not suppress a silly little grin. Lizzy didn’t know it, but as far as he knew no one had ever _cared_ about him enough to make any sacrifice for him. He wasn’t sure it was a good thing, and guilt mingled with pleasure inside in his heart.

“Besides,” she went on, reading the emotions playing across his face like a book. “The more I think about it…it’s a shit play anyway. The best ending Shakespeare could come up with was for the lovers to kill themselves? What _rubbish_.”

She thought there must be some particular section of Hell reserved for actors who dared pass judgement upon the Bard Himself, but she didn’t care.

Jack’s smile widened for her irreverence. “I’ll make it up to you,” he finally said. “How bout I promise to take you to California someday?”

It occurred to Elizabeth that somehow she’d gained a real-life Romeo, this handsome young man visiting her window at midnight. They would make their own ending, and a much _better_ one, she decided.

She beamed down at him, her smile in the shadows as bright as the moon. “In the Pearl?”

“Could there be any other vessel for such an _important_ mission?”

She laughed with delight, forgetting herself. Soon after she heard stirring down the hall. Eyes wide, she hissed, “My father! Hide!” She shut the window and dove into her bed, hiding the jacket with the duvet. A moment later the door cracked, undoubtedly her father peering in.

“Are you awake, Elizabeth?”

She didn’t answer.

He went back to bed.

That night she dreamed of Jack and California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and your comments, you make my day!


	10. The King Of Cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homecoming court is announced, but Lizzy has her eye on a different kind of King.

# 10\. The King of Cool

_Ever since the world began/There's been a whole lotta good women shedding tears/All for a brown-eyed handsome man_

_–Buddy Holly_

* * *

 

The last bell on Friday found Elizabeth in a forlorn mood. She made her way through the excited crowds to her locker, her expression drawn. Occasionally a _Congratulations!_ would float her way, and she would affect a smile and polite _thank you._

First the bloody play fiasco, and now this?

Elizabeth had been crowned the Homecoming Queen, which suddenly didn’t seem as appealing as it once had. In fact, she felt like a total fucking _square._ She’d thought the incident of quitting the play could only hurt her popularity, but apparently everyone thought it was _hilarious_ that she’d put Cutler Beckett in his place. Everyone giggled and snickered and whispered _Cutlet_ as he walked by in the halls, causing the nasty little blighter to live in a perpetual state of tomato red face for the whole week.

So caught up in her thoughts, she jumped with surprise when she finally noticed James Norrington leaning against the locker next to hers,. “Hey, Elizabeth.” He smiled shyly, and immediately Elizabeth almost felt bad for what she knew what was about to happen. “Or should I say, _my Queen_?”

She raised one sculpted eyebrow, looking quite the part.

James, the Captain of the football team, had been elected King of Homecoming court. He wore his blue and gold letterman’s jacket proudly, and for the first time she seemed to recognize how _ridiculous_ it looked.

“ _Elizabeth_ is fine,” she replied coolly.

He pressed his lips, suddenly unsure of the waters. “Well…I was thinking…well hoping, actually, and not just because you’re the Queen but because you really are a fine woman…”

She suddenly felt rather light headed, and she fanned herself with a folder before stuffing it into her rucksack. Slamming her locker, she quickly zipped up her bag. “I have to go,” she apologized, and quickly rushed off for the exit. She passed the Candy Colored Harpy Mafia on the way out, and the girls she loosely regarded as her friends witnessed her hasty exit with bewildered stares.

Immediately they began to whisper viciously to each other, and she could just hear them sharpening their claws. It was as though she could hear _everything,_ a clamoring din that hissed and pounded in her head. At the top of the stairs leading down to the parking lot her foot missed its mark, and she felt herself falling as though in slow motion. She might have screamed, but all she really remembered thinking was _this is going to hurt._

She waited for the bite of the pavement, but rather than the embrace of asphalt, strong arms wrapped around her, a solid warm body releasing an _oomph_ from her impact. “Whoa there, Lizzy girl. You alright?”

_Jack._

She turned her face into his chest, hiding until the clamor of the world returned to normal, the voices fading back into the seething pit. They were replaced by another voice speaking soft nonsense into her hair, and her grip tightened upon his shirt. “Hey now,” he said softly, hooking her beneath the chin with a finger. “I told you that you were the coolest Queen on the block, huh?”

She sighed, a sad little titter escaping her. “You don’t think I’m a square?”

His rogue’s smile only widened. “Well, yeah, a little, but I won’t hold it against you.”

This time she really did laugh, a genuine sound of mirth that somehow tugged at his heartstrings. “Oh Jack,” she sighed, resting her head against his collarbone again.

“Hey. Want to go get a shake over at Cooper’s? They just got a new juke that makes the place _jump._ ” Eagerly she nodded. “Yes, that would be brilliant, thank you. What about Josh?”

“He’s got a date with Anamaria. Doesn’t want dead weight like me tagging along,” said Jack with a sly smile.

“Oh. _Oh.”_ Elizabeth shared Jack’s conspirator’s smile, and hand in hand they walked to the Bel Air, her book bag on his shoulder. “I didn’t realize they were an _item_.”

“Well, they’re not yet. Anamaria doesn’t make it easy on a fellow.” He said the last like he knew from experience, and Lizzy bit her lip a little. In the end, curiosity won out.

“Did _you_ and Anamaria ever…”

Jack raised both eyebrows, wondering if he’d managed to put his foot in his mouth. “Well….yeah. A long time ago.” He wiggled his fingers before them. “ _Ancient_ history.” Like, _so_ last year. “Nothing to worry about, I promise.”

Elizabeth hoped she wouldn’t, but this new knowledge still managed to gnaw a little bit at the back of her mind.

Anamaria was just so… _cool._

They motored over to Cooper’s diner, and found a booth by the windows.

The waitress sauntered over, a svelte blonde with heavy cat-eye kohl makeup. “Hey, handsome,” she greeted, popping her gum with a coquettish sweep of her lashes. Elizabeth realized the tone of it was very similar to the way Tia had greeted them at the blues club. At the time she’d thought nothing of it, but after finding out about Anamaria, she had to wonder…

“Hey Giselle.” Elizabeth fixed him with a hawk-like stare that missed _nothing,_ and he had the grace to look _a little_ embarrassed. He paid her a sheepish smile after they had placed their orders, a strawberry shake for Lizzy, and a Vanilla for Jack.

“Her too _?_ ” Lizzy demanded, eyes narrowed.

Jack frowned a little, before shrugging it off. “Also ancient history, love. Don’t sweat it.”

Elizabeth sighed, cupping her chin in her hand. “Sorry. I know we’re the same age, but I feel like you’ve _lived_ so much more than I have.”

Jack toyed with the salt shaker, pushing it across the formica table with the tip of his finger. “I’m a _little_ older than you, Lizzy,” he finally confessed.

She canted her head, her ponytail bouncing in a way that for some reason he thought was cute. “Are you?”

“I guess it was before you moved here to the _colonies_ ,” he said derisively, but despite the teasing nature of his words she detected serious undertones. His eyes cast down, Jack seemed very intent on the table top as he said, “My mom died when I was thirteen. She got sick…the doctors couldn’t do anything. She just kinda…faded away. I didn’t see much point in going to school, and I couldn’t really concentrate anyway. So…freshman year was so nice I did it twice.”

“Oh.” She reached across the table, clasping Jack’s hands in hers. “Oh Jack, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” His hands squeezed hers, almost _too_ hard, before he got a hold of himself, that wan boyish smile curling his lips once more.

“Thanks. But it was a long time ago. I’m fine now,” he assured her, and he even almost believed it. With Lizzy’s hand in his, he felt like he could conquer anything.

A pretty redhead brought over their shakes, delivering them with a wink to Jack. “Here you go, handsome.”

“Ah…thanks, Scarlett.”

He squirmed a little inside for the look Lizzy paid him.

Scarlett sauntered off with an extra swing in her step, but Jack made a point to keep his eyes fixed on Lizzy, affecting the expression of a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“ _Her too?_ ”

“Erm… _also_ ancient history,” he insisted. “Forget them. I have. Believe me.” He squeezed her hand in his, his mechanic’s fingers rough against her fair skin. She wanted to believe him, more than she’d wanted anything in a long time.

She traced his cuticle, grease blackening the outline of his nail. She found she didn’t mind. She liked every part of Jack, from his rough hands to his devil may care smile, and everything in between.

Jack realized then that he’d let slip what could be considered _top secret_ information. This girl robbed him of _all_ his cool! Noting his horrified expression, she laughed lightly, somehow diffusing the tension in the air. With a sparkle in her eye she asked, “Would you like to go to Homecoming with me?” she asked.

“Aren’t I supposed to ask _you_ that?”

She shrugged, her ponytail bouncing. “Does it matter?”

His grin widened, and again she was struck with the thought that he had a _pirate smile._ “I can’t.”

Immediately her expression fell, like the sun sinking below the horizon. “Oh.”

“There’s a big race at the Straight 50 I can’t miss that Saturday. Everyone will be there. Want to be my hot rod baby?”

The Straight 50 referred to a popular racing spot on a back road of the county.

“Yes, but…I can’t. I’m on the committee, and…”

It was his turn for his mood to fall. He’d hoped she’d blow off Homecoming, but he supposed the play had been more than pushing his luck. “Of course, you have duties, _your nibs_.”

Elizabeth sighed. All the girls were so excited to dress up like a princess for the school dance, but she found the thought rather tedious now. “I’d rather be with you, Jack.”

He pressed his lips, a shadow entering his eyes. “But instead you have to be with James Norrington.”

“Just for the pictures. And the crowning,” she said. “And the parade, I suppose. I certainly don’t have to _kiss_ him.”

“That’s not what his cronies said in history class.” In the final period of the day, the announcements of the winners had been made. James had high-fived his friends Groves and Gillette. Gillette had congratulated him, _She’s a sure thing now,_ to which James had blushed _crimson_ red. It was the worst kept secret in school that James fancied Elizabeth, and had for _ages._ Gillette said it _just_ loud enough for Jack to hear.

No one seemed to know what to think about the Elizabeth Swann and Jack Sparrow phenomenon, and most of the ton chose not to recognize its legitimacy.

Jack had narrowly resisted the urge to clout him, but instead continued to lounge in his desk in the back like an unaffected leopard.

 _The king of cool_.

Inside, he was seething.

“Indeed?” Jack couldn’t help but think she held herself like a queen, one imperious eyebrow raised high.

Jack held up his two fingers in a gesture of _Scout’s honor._

“Perhaps he tried to ask me to be his date at my locker today, but I…” She thought back on it, and smiled a little. “I ran right into your arms, Jack Sparrow.”

Tumbled, more like, but Jack wouldn’t argue.

“Just where you belong, darlin’.” He held out a thin one, the dime glinting in the afternoon light. “Want to pick the next song?”

She took the dime with pleasure, and he thoroughly enjoyed watching her walk over to the juke box. More than he’d ever enjoyed watching Giselle, Scarlette, Anamaria, or any other female from his colorful past.

This girl… _this girl._

What had she _done_ to him?

Elizabeth sauntered back, sliding into her side of the booth with a soft smile that warmed his insides. She bopped her head to the opening strains of Buddy Holly’s _Brown Eyed Handsome Man,_ sipping her strawberry shake.

She reached out to take his hand in hers, and in that moment life was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for reading and your comments! You make my day!! :)


	11. Can You Read My Mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzy slips away to meet her new friends at the beach.

# 11\. Can You Read My Mind?

_I never really gave up on/Breakin' out of this two-star town/I got the green light/I got a little fight/I'm gonna turn this thing around –The Killers_

* * *

 

 

Saturday afternoon Elizabeth claimed she was meeting her friends at the beach, and that she wouldn’t be back until later. It wasn’t a lie, though the matter of _which_ friends would have surely raised her mother’s hackles. Her father paid her an amused smile, wishing her a pleasant afternoon, and she suspected he knew very well what she was up to. However, Weatherby let her go, and her mother seemed to think the matter of Jack Sparrow closed.

Elizabeth drove to the beach in the Fairlane, and parked beside the Black Pearl. She found the crew not too far down the sand, enjoying drinks and a little driftwood fire. Elizabeth took a seat beside Jack upon a weathered log, and he slung his arm around her shoulders. “Want your jacket back?” she asked, the leather garment slung around her shoulders.

“It looks good on you, baby.” He leaned down for a kiss, which subsequently curled her toes in the sand and earned them an _oooooooo_ from the crew. They took the abuse with a smile, too enamored of each other to care.

Elizabeth listened to the discussion du jour, feeling very happy in this warm circle of comrades. She marveled at the difference between her own elitist clique and these supposed misfits—here, everyone seemed to actually _like_ each other. It was refreshing, to say the least. She returned Anamaria’s copy of Howl, and the pair got into an animated discussion of Ginsberg’s brilliant if not profane work. Elizabeth had wondered if it might be awkward to see Anamaria again after what she’d found out, but it seemed Ana really treated Jack more like a baby brother who needed protecting. They talked so intently that Jack almost felt left out, even with his arm around her.

“This _poem_ ,” he teased. “What is it with this fucking poem?” He pulled Lizzy to her feet. “Come on, I’m stealing you away from this madness.” Marty laughed with triumph at Anamaria’s frown, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

Hand in hand, Lizzy and Jack walked down the beach. The wind was cool but the sun was shining, and all in all it was a nice day to be by the sea. Her skirts whispered about her thighs, ruffled by the wind. They dipped their toes in the surf, giggling as they ran from the chilled Atlantic waves whispering over the sand.

“So now you know my darkest secrets. Tell me _your_ dreams, Jack,” said Elizabeth. “What do you want to do with your life?”

“That you want to be a film star is your _darkest_ secret?” he teased. “Boy, do I have my work cut out for me.”

She laughed as he leaned down to kiss her, and gasped as he ducked her lips, pressing his open mouth to her neck. “Jack!” Her hands curled in the sleeves of his shirt, and he didn’t think she really minded. His mouth gravitated back to hers, and they shared a long slow kiss that scrambled any coherent thought she might have entertained. His strong hands upon her waist drove her mad, unleashing feelings inside her she didn’t exactly understand. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up onto her tiptoes as he explored her mouth with his.

“Are you avoiding my question?” she gasped as he planted little kisses along her jawline.

“What if this is all I really want?” he asked.

“Long walks on the beach?”

“ _You_ ,” he clarified, then shrugged. “I don’t know, Lizzy. I’m a mechanic born into a family of poor outlaws. I’ve never made plans for the future, because I’ve never really thought there was one. You’re the nicest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He bent down to kiss her, and Lizzy melted _just a little_ under his clever mouth before she suspected he was using kisses as a distraction. Elizabeth held herself just out of reach, cradling his head in her hands. “You _are_ a brilliant mechanic,” she said. “But you play the guitar like it’s a part of your body. You’re smart. _Ridiculously_ handsome. You could do _anything_ you want, Jack.”

Jack laughed a little at that, and for some reason it hurt Lizzy’s soul that he found her assessment of him _funny._ “Sure, sweetheart. Sure thing.”

“What do you mean you were _born into a family of outlaws_?”

“You know what they say. I told you some of its even true.”

“I don’t, really.”

“Are you writing a book?”

“No…”

“Are you a narc?” he teased, regarding her with narrowed eyes.

“I think you know better than that.”

“ _Hmmm._ ” Talking about the family business did not come easily to him, it was so drummed into his head to _never_ talk about it to anyone who wasn’t a business associate. He decided to start with the easy part. “Well, back in the good old days of prohibition, my grandfather made the best white lightning in the county, and the fastest cars to transport it with. Now in these gentler times we still make a living working on cars, but it’s a big world out there. Sometimes…certain cars get _misplaced_ ,” he insinuated. “Sometimes my father…helps them find their way?” Sometimes in pieces, sometimes not.

Elizabeth frowned, thinking she took his meaning. “And do you ever _find_ them for him?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Occasionally. Family business, an’ all.”

Not to mention a little deal he’d made with Davy Jones over the Pearl, but he _really_ didn’t want to talk about _that_ with Lizzy. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Lizzy frowned a little. She liked that Jack was a bit of a rogue, but the thought of him possibly going to jail for illegal activities filled her with a sad, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She gripped his hands in hers, holding on to him like he was the last sane thing left in this world. “Come to California with me,” she said breathily, her eyes too wide.

“Thought that was already settled?” he offered with a lopsided grin.

“No, I mean once we get there… _stay. I believe in you_ , Jack. There’s a future out there, for the both of us.”

Suddenly his expression turned solemn as he looked down upon her, and she felt certain she’d gone too far. What had been light banter and teasing now turned to something decidedly _heavy,_ and she could hardly stand the weight of his black stare upon her. She closed her eyes, holding her breath as she waited for the fall of the guillotine.

 _No one_ had ever said those words to Jack since his mother died.

_I believe in you._

Anytime Jack ever dared mention the desire to be something other than what he was, his father and uncles would deride him, laughing around the cigarettes hanging from their wolfish grins. _Think you’re too good to work on cars, Jackie boy? You don’t even know how easy you’ve got it._ They were men who had seen war, had seen death in all its forms, comrades blown to bits beside them and whole towns razed to the ground. To them a mild mechanic’s life, and the occasional stolen car was sweet indeed, and it didn’t occur to them to ask for more, or why Jack might like _something else_.

Jack did not answer Elizabeth, simply leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her sweetly and so thoroughly she turned to putty in his arms. He didn’t dare say it aloud just yet, but the answer ringing in his heart was _yes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! Seriously, you guys are the best, you never fail to make my day!! <3


	12. Hot Rod Baby

# 12\. Hotrod Baby

_Honey when you walk my way it makes me want to say…ooohhhhhh. –The Killers_

* * *

 

****

For the supposedly most beloved girl in school, Elizabeth felt down right _lousy_ the day of the Homecoming parade. Saturday morning she sat beside James Norrington in his father’s convertible Cadillac, offering up her very best fake smile to the crowd.

James sat tall and handsome in the most All-American way possible in his Letterman’s Jacket, his green eyes filled with goodwill for everyone on the sidelines. He kept trying to hold her hand between them, and she dodged him repeatedly with subtle shifts of her position.

He leaned over to whisper, “Are you alright?” in her ear, and she felt disconcerted that it seemed even James could tell that something was amiss. She felt _restless,_ and all she wanted to do was drive down to Teague’s to help Jack prep the Pearl for his big race.

Then an idea hatched. It was a little desperate, and not exactly _kind_ , though at that moment she could hardly bring herself to care about _anything_ but getting to spend her evening with Jack Sparrow. “I…feel a little under the weather,” she admitted, pulling her cardigan closer. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

James frowned, and shrugged out of his jacket, putting it around her shoulders. “Do you need to go home?” Internally, she sighed. Maybe James was totally a square, but why did he always have to be so _sweet_? He wasn’t a bad man. He just…wasn’t Jack.

“Maybe after the parade,” she said, putting a little quaver in her tone.

The Homecoming King looked genuinely worried, and she _almost_ felt guilty. “Thank you,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. Just that small contact seemed to steal his breath away.

By the time the parade ended Elizabeth had developed a full on cough. She even managed to make herself look a bit _green_ , which was no small feat for an actress. By the afternoon she was safely ensconced under her duvet, and James Norrington no longer expected to see her that evening. He insisted that she keep his jacket, and she added it to her collection on the chair beside Jack’s. At this rate she would have a full closet in time for winter…

He mother brought her soup and her father fussed over her a little before he had to go to school to oversee the preparations for the dance. Elizabeth told her mother that she would be going to sleep, and Mrs. Swann nodded, not one to fuss unnecessarily. For once, Elizabeth was glad.

She made a phone call, speaking as quietly as she could into the horn. As the sun slipped below the horizon Elizabeth plumped her bed with a series of pillows and a blonde doll that had the same color hair as her, using it to make the appearance that she was tucked in and zonked. Then she slipped out the window and down the tree in her only pair of dungarees, the way she had a few times before, but _never_ for a reason that could get her grounded for the rest of the school year if her parents found out.

She scuttled through the backyards of her neighborhood, ducking so as not to be seen, her smile widening more and more the further she got from home.

Josh picked her up on the corner several blocks away, and with conspirator’s sly grins they drove to Ana Maria’s house.

 

**XXX**

 

The Straight 50 was _jumping._ There were hot rods of every make and model parked around the grass, sleek brightly colored speed machines, and a crowd of people from all over the county. Tough looking men with rolled up t-shirts and tight dungarees, and sultry hot-rod mammas hanging on muscled tattooed arms.

With Ana Maria’s help, Elizabeth fit right in, her hair thrown up and a red bandana secured around her head. She walked arm in arm with Ana Maria and Josh, as fascinated by the proceedings as a bright eyed little girl attending a circus. Men whistled as they walked by, and to several Ana Maria made a rude gesture back at, causing Elizabeth to giggle with disbelief. She was so _bold,_ and Elizabeth _madly_ wanted to be just like her.

She was about to get her chance to be in the spotlight. Ana Maria was going to play flag girl for Jack’s race with a cat named Hector Barbossa, but she had arranged for Elizabeth to take her place. Elizabeth could see Jack leaning on the Pearl, heckling with a pock-faced young man next to a purple souped up Ford truck. Elizabeth’s heart caught in her throat at the sight of Jack; he looked the perfect outlaw, his muscles straining against his white t-shirt, all his tattoos on proud display.

Hector tried to goad Jack into racing for pinks, to which Jack answered Hector would _never_ get his mitts on the Pearl fair and square. After one last jibe the boys got into their vehicles, starting their engines. The deep rumble gave Elizabeth chills from her head to her toes.

“You’re on!” hissed Ana Maria, pushing Elizabeth gently towards the tarmac.

Flags in hand, Elizabeth sauntered out to the center line of the highway in high heels, tight rolled up dungarees, and a red polka-dot blouse tied high on her midriff. Through the windshield she saw Jack’s jaw _drop,_ and then immediately that pirate’s smile took over his handsome visage. He looked like a wolf hungry for the kill, and with a threatening dark look over at Hector he revved his engine. The growl of the Bel-Air was something _primal,_ like the snarl of a bear in its cave, and she felt it deep in her spine.

For a moment Elizabeth forgot what she was supposed to be doing.

Remembering herself, she smiled, raising her flags high, turning to look over her shoulder coquettishly. One could have cut the tension in the air with a knife, and as she sliced the air with her flags the two hot rods roared to life, squealing past her in a cloud of smoke.

Elizabeth held her breath for the entire race, and she squealed and jumped in the air like an excited child when the Pearl beat Barbossa’s chariot by a _mile_.

The contestants idled back around and parked, and Elizabeth ran to Jack, throwing herself into his waiting arms. Before she could get a word out he pressed his mouth to hers, taking her in a kiss that bent her over backwards and stole her breath away. She felt every bone in her body melt one by one as he plied her with his lips and his strong hands on her bare waist. _Finally_ they surfaced, gasping for breath, and Elizabeth let loose a joy filled laugh.

“I thought you had to play Queen of the Squares tonight?” said Jack, sounding rather breathless for such a cool customer.

“I called in sick,” she answered cheekily, and kissed him again. For the first time that day she felt like she was where she was _supposed_ to be, in Jack Sparrow’s arms.

“Honey, you are the _hottest_ little thing to _ever_ walk this tarmac,” growled Jack in her ear. “Where did _you_ get these clothes?”

Elizabeth laughed and pointed at Ana Maria, who winked at them both. Josh had an arm around her shoulders, and looked fairly content himself.

Past Ana, Elizabeth noticed that Davy Jones was at the race. He was shooting a glare in Jack’s direction that could have melted steel, but the young man was oblivious with his best girl in his arms. Someone came over and handed Jack a very thick wad of cash, clapping him on the back. Elizabeth’s eyes went wide; she came from a well to do family, but she had personally _never_ seen so much money in one place.

In the distance down the long stretch of road there was a flash of blue lights, and immediately panic spread through the crowd. “Cops!”

Giggling maniacally, Elizabeth raced to get in the passenger seat, and Jack had the Pearl moving before she even closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and your comments!!! You make my day!!!


	13. One Perfect Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter will make up for the cliffy in One Year? XD Love you guys! ...

# 13\. One Perfect Night

_The stars are blazin’ like rebel diamonds cut out of the sun, can you read my mind? –The Killers_

* * *

 

 

The young lovers relocated to the boardwalk in the heart of town, the bright lights of a carnival illuminating the night sky gaily. They clutched at each other’s hands, as though the wind coming off the sea might blow them apart somehow. Jack won her a stuffed bear and bought her cotton candy, which they shared on the Ferris wheel. When the spun sugar stuck to her nose Jack kissed it clean, which only led to more heated smooching as they breezed past on the circular amusement ride.

After they had their fun they walked on the boardwalk, watching the people go by. Most of their classmates were at the dance, and Elizabeth didn’t fear being found out _too_ badly.

“You were brilliant tonight,” she complimented. “Barbossa _never_ stood a chance.”

Jack paid her a shy smile, looking up at her through the black lace of his long lashes. “All because of you, love. When you strutted your stuff out on that blacktop— _oh baby_. I could have _ran_ faster than Hector’s hot rod.”

Elizabeth laughed at the thought, leaning against him heavily. There was a chill in the air, and she wished she’d thought to bring Jack’s jacket. “Want to go back to the car?” asked Jack with raised brows, and Elizabeth thought that maybe he intended to generate their _own_ warmth.

She bit her lip, watching him squirm a little as she made him wait for her answer. “Yeah. Let’s go to the Dunes.”

The Dunes was a deserted beach where teenagers often went to make out with a view of the ocean through the windscreen. Jack closed his eyes and sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “I think I love you, you know.”

She wasn’t sure she didn’t feel _exactly_ the same, and her heart went _ka-thunk_ in her chest. Was he making sport of her? Somehow, she didn’t think so. “I felt like I was going crazy today,” she admitted. “All I wanted was to be with you.”

He slung his arm over her shoulders and began to lead her back to the Pearl. “You’ve got me, baby.”

They motored to the Dunes. Later after the dance it would be crowded, but for now they had the place to themselves. They cracked the windows so they could hear the waves crashing against the sand, and the wind whispering through the saw grass. Jack ruefully glanced back at his nonexistent back seat. “I guess front seat bingo will just have to do,” he snarked, winning a laugh.

“That’s fine with me.” He kissed her gently, his fingers sliding into her hair. Somehow they managed to stretch out together across the bench seat, Elizabeth lounging on top of Jack. His kisses were like forbidden candy; the best thing she’d ever tasted in her life. She _craved_ him like a drug. His hands wandered a little—but not nearly as much as she _wanted_ them to, she found.

“It’s alright,” she told him. “You can touch me, Jack. If you want to.”

A shaky little laugh emitted from deep in his chest. “ _Oh honey_.” His hands went to her waist, dragging up her ribcage in a way that made her sigh. He paused with the tips of his fingers just beneath the hem of her tied up top, and she fought the urge to squirm from the sweetness of it. “I want to. Believe me, I want to.”

He kissed her again, this time more deeply, his full lips covering hers. “Elizabeth…”

“Jack?” She didn’t know how she managed to even say _that_ intelligibly, her brain was filled with such sparkling chaos. It was beautiful—and maddening—and she didn’t really know what to do about it.

“You know I’ve been with girls. Lots of girls…”

She frowned a little, pausing. “Not sure that’s an appropriate topic of conversation for the moment…”

“It’s just, I want you to know…” He growled and kissed her again, a melting kiss that curled her toes, her hands clutching at his shirt and the curls at the base of his skull. “I want you to _know_ that none of them _mattered,_ ” he growled. “But you do. You matter more than anyone _ever_ has, Elizabeth.”

Breathless, she stared at him from inches away, the sound of her own heartbeat a deafening thunder in her ears. Slowly she touched his lips, so full and swollen from their kisses. Then she dared to meet his eyes, those coal black orbs of such _infinite_ darkness—she thought she might see her whole future in his eyes.

“ _Jack_ ,” she whispered, and he seemed to hang on her words like a man awaiting a sentencing. “I think I love you too.”

He sighed then, a sound of intense relief, and she felt him relax beneath her before he grabbed her up once more, his hand in her hair and his mouth finding hers. His strong mechanic’s hands wandered her body as they devoured each other, her waist and the curve of her spine, causing her to arch against him like a cat. Something was building inside her. Something _unbearably_ sweet, and she felt like she might _explode_ if Jack didn’t…

She didn’t actually _know_ what she wanted him to do, exactly. She’d been in cars with boys before, but they had never made her feel like _this._ Never touched her like _this._

Yet when his hand drifted to the snap of her jeans, unbuttoning the top fastening deftly, if was like a wave of relief washed over her entire body.

_Oh. Oh that._

He moved slowly, giving her every chance to protest, but she only offered him encouragement, her hips undulating against his hand. When his fingers dipped inside her pants to touch her she thought she might die all over again, _it felt so good._ “Oh God, Jack,” she panted, hiding her face against the bend of his neck.

“Do you like that?” His voice was low and raspy, and somehow contained all the heat of a forest fire.

“ _Yes_ ,” she sighed. “Please don’t stop.”

He paid her that pirate’s smile that she loved so much, that half smirk that made her want to kiss him and possibly hit him all at once. “I won’t stop until you stop,” he assured her, and she wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that until his fingers began to move once more, faster and faster, upon that little nub of pink flesh between her legs.

A keening sound escaped her that was not at all dignified, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. All she cared about was Jack’s hand and the things it was doing to her between her legs, and Jack’s mouth upon hers. He coaxed her to sit up upon his lap a little more, her legs spread over his hips. He nuzzled the neckline of her blouse, finding one pebble hard nipple to nibble upon. It sent the most indescribable sensation jetting through her, and something like lighting erupted inside her, a white hot pleasure that made her writhe and scream. She trembled on top of him, and with a gentle smile Jack watched her, touching her lightly until she couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Oh God, Jack…” she panted, mildly embarrassed, her head resting upon his chest.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he assured her, kissing her forehead.

A slow smile spread upon her lips, and after she caught her breath she began to slide down Jack’s body, catching his lips with hers on the way down. Perhaps she had not really known about the pleasure her own body was capable of, but she knew _plenty_ about what to do with _him._ Only now did it occur to her how _unfair_ her previous experiences had been. How _selfish_ those other boys were. _Fuck them._

It made her love Jack all the more.

He gasped as she nipped at the flat toned flesh of his belly, and dipped her tongue in the v of muscle at the top of his hip. “ _Lizzy…”_ His voice came rough and low, filled with desire, and she could not help but smile. There was power in this—she’d always liked that part about this act. In fact, before, it was the _only_ part she liked. But she’d never realized how it could be an act of generosity, of _love,_ for the right person. She wanted to give him _everything,_ and she moaned as she freed his manhood and took him into her mouth.

Jack’s head rocked back hard, striking the door of the Belair, and Elizabeth smiled a little. Not much, for Jack was _rather a mouthful,_ and when she returned to her task Jack sighed and moaned and threaded his strong fingers in her hair, gently guiding her rhythm. He called her _baby_ and _sweetheart_ and _darlin’_ , an endless litany of endearments mixed with sounds of pure animal delight—Elizabeth thought she might come again just from _listening_ to him.

“ _Baby, that’s enough, I’m going to_ …” He tried to be a gentleman and lift her off, but Elizabeth killed his attempt at chivalry by taking him even further. Utterly lost, Jack convulsed and spilled himself down her throat, his cock twitching between her lips, his hands tangled in her hair.

When she surfaced she managed to cough only a _little_ , wiping a dab of moisture from the corner of her mouth _._

With a shaky chuckle Jack pulled her down into his arms, and they snuggled across the seat of the Pearl, curled up in an awkward space the way only the young and impossibly smitten can manage to do.

“I meant it you know,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I love you.”

Shakily she laughed, unsure how her heart could hold this much pure _joy,_ and craned her neck for a kiss upon swollen lips. “I love _you_ , Jack.”

She didn’t know what would happen to them. All she knew was that this had been the most _perfect_ night of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thank you SO much for reading and your comments! You make me so happy!


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